Resilience
by WildestDreams93
Summary: According to legend, Nephilim's are supposed to be the most powerful creatures. Half-angel, half-human. According to Heaven's law, angels and humans are forbidden to mate. Luciana (Lucy) isn't supposed to exist. Yet, here she is, running for her life with help from Sam and Dean. *Title may be subject to change due to my indecisive nature*
1. Chapter 1

Resilience

Chapter 1

_"She's the first trial."_

_"What? She's just a girl—"_

_"No, she's not. She's a Nephilim."_

_"What? A hybrid of an angel and a human? I thought that wasn't allowed."_

_"It isn't. She's the only one. If we want to shut down Heaven, we're going to have to rip out her heart."_

"Staring at her isn't going to make this any easier."

Castiel ignored Metatron and continued staring at the young girl carrying out the garbage behind an old restaurant. He watched as one bag fell open, garbage pouring out. The girl let out a curse before bending over and picking everything up. Then, she stilled. She lifted her head and looked right at Castiel and Metatron, who were standing just across the street. Metatron quickly snapped his fingers and the girl returned to what she was doing.

"What did you do?" Castiel wondered, turning to look at Metatron. Metatron rolled his eyes. Castiel didn't trust him, not even a little bit.

"I merely made it so we blended in, Castiel. For now, anyway. We should get out of here—"

Castiel merely nodded before turning to look at the girl once more. She had finished gathering the trash and was walking back to the door. Sighing, the angel vanished along with his counterpart. He knew what he had to do.

Later that night, Castiel and Metatron stood outside the darkened restaurant and waited. And waited. Finally, around 11 o'clock, the girl exited the restaurant. She had a small grin on her face, clutching an envelope in her hands as she walked down the street. Castiel and Metatron waited no longer. They followed her down the street and through the park, until she came to an abrupt halt right underneath lamp.

What surprised Castiel was that she didn't turn around. Not at first, anyway.

"We know what you are," Metatron sneered, his dislike for her obvious, "_Abomination_."

The girl sighed before turning to face them, hands up.

"Look, I don't have much, alright? I'm just—"

"Oh, cut the boring, innocence speech," Metatron interrupted, nearly growling at her, "We _know_."

"I was going to say that I'm just a _waitress_. I don't have a lot to offer." the girl swallowed harshly, but to Castiel, she still looked confused. "You're both robbers, right? That's why you've been following me?"

Castiel felt for the girl. She seemed as if she really didn't know. That pissed Metatron off even more.

"Robbers? As if. Don't act like you don't know what you are," Metatron growled, glaring at her. The mere sight of the abomination was enough to get him angry, but she denied what she was which made him see red, "You _disgust_ me, you little—"

The girl took a step backwards, eyes wide with fear as she lowered her hands back to her sides. She had put on a brave front, but both angels could see the fear in her eyes now. Castiel decided enough was enough. He had hoped maybe the girl would know of another way around this to close Heaven, but now that seemed unlikely. She didn't even know what she was. She didn't even know what _they_ were.

"That's enough," Castiel interrupted, glaring at Metatron before turning back towards the girl, "We just want—"

"You think I don't know what you want?" The girl swallowed before glaring at them, "I just want to go home so _please_… be my guest. Take it. All of it. I don't care." She threw her purse on the ground, hands shaking as she folded her arms across her chest. Then, she threw the envelope on the ground with the rest of her stuff. A paycheck, Castiel realized.

"What?" Castiel narrowed his gaze at her. She really didn't know…._anything_.

"Please, just take it and leave me alone," She begged, voice cracking, "_Please_." She thought for a moment before adding, "Wait… did… did Trevor have something to do with this? Is this a prank or something?"

"This isn't about your boyfriend, you _naïve_ girl—" Metatron groaned, running a hand through his hair in aggravation.

"_Ex_-boyfriend," She interrupted weakly, before adding, "If it's not, then what's this about?"

"Stop playing innocent—" Metatron yelled, face turning red as he got in her face. Which was an amazing feat, considering she had a good few inches on him.

"I'm not playing anything!" She yelled, voice shaking with fear, as she took another step backwards. "What the _hell_ do you—"

"I can't listen to this anymore, enough of this. Castiel, kill her."

Castiel hesitated, looking between her and Metatron to gauge what the right decision would be. This girl was the key to his redemption. He had no choice, he told himself. He looked at Metatron and nodded. He reached into his coat pocket, pulling out an angel blade.

"I really am sorry." Castiel spoke softly.

"What? You're serious? You're going to _kill_ me?" She squeaked, backing away, "I—"

"Oh _shut up,"_ Metatron was about to begin on another rant, until a bright light enveloped them all. When Castiel could finally see again, the girl was gone…. and Metatron was on the ground.

God, her head hurt. She felt as if she had gotten run over by a truck… and then backed over by that very same truck. Groaning, she blinked her eyes open. The bright lights caused her to quickly close them again. She let out a groan, putting a hand on her head to see if it was still attached.

"I see you're awake. That is a good sign."

Startled, she opened her eyes again and sat up on what seemed to be an air mattress. She looked around the room, seeing a woman behind a desk. She stood up, not wanting to show weakness in front of anyone, much less this total stranger. She had already lost her cool in what seemed to be the weirdest robbery _ever_. The woman smiled at her, gesturing to a seat that was a right in front of the desk. They were, apparently, in an office.

"Where am I?"

"Sit and we will—"

"Look, lady, I'm not doing anything until you tell me where the hell I am." She was pleased to note that her voice just _barely_ shook as she spoke. The lady behind the desk raised her eyebrows at her, looking impressed, as she sat back in her chair.

"You're home."

"Excuse me?" When the lady hesitated, she continued, "Look, I think we have some sort of mistake here. I'm not from… wherever this is. I'm from Kansas."

"Technically." The lady smirked, as if she knew something that the younger girl didn't. "Listen, Luciana—"

"It's Lucy," She automatically corrected, rolling her eyes, but then she stilled. She began to backtracked, "wait, how the _hell_ do you—"

"Welcome to Heaven, Lucy. We've been waiting for you."

"I'm sorry…. _What_? Heaven? Am I… am I _dead_?!" Lucy frantically spoke, mind going into overdrive as she freaked out. She wasn't even thirty yet, how could she be _dead_? "Those freaks in the park actually _killed_ me? Oh. My. God. I can't—"

The lady stood up, making her way towards Lucy with a sympathetic expression.

"I'm sorry. Perhaps, I should've been clearer. You are alive. However, you are just—you are not going to faint, are you? You should sit down."

Lucy was pacing back and forth, trying to wrap her head around the fact that she was _in Heaven_ yet somehow… _alive_.

"Please just… _calm_ down—" The lady put her hand on her shoulder, causing her to freak out even more.

"Don't touch me!" She yelled, backing away until she was in a corner. "I don't understand. You're….you're crazy. I want to go home."

So many cool points were being lost right now, but she didn't care. She just wanted to be curled up in her own bed, watching _The Big Bang Theory_. This actually felt like a dream. It _had _to be a dream because… seriously. The creepy guys in the park and now this office lady telling her that she was in Heaven.

The lady sighed, "This is going to be a lot harder than I anticipated." She moved to sit in front of Lucy. Lucy squirmed until she was the furthest she could possibly get from the lady without moving. "My name is Naomi. Do you remember what happened before you woke up here?"

Lucy thought for a moment before hesitantly nodding, "These… these two men came up to me when I was walking home from work. One was really short and really… bitchy. The other one was wearing a trench coat and hardly said anything." She noticed Naomi's faint smile at that before continuing, "The shorter one started yelling at me for something, but I _don't know_ what I did to make him angry. I thought it was a robbery so I gave them my purse, but he was _still_ pissed off at me—"

Lucy's head throbbed at the memory, causing her to reach up and put her head between her hands. Naomi briefly touched her and Lucy suddenly felt better. Not 100% by any means, because this lady was telling her she was in _Heaven_, but her head didn't hurt.

"I know you do not understand, but you will." the lady looked at her sympathetically, "I will explain everything, okay, but you must _listen_ and not interrupt. Ok?"

Lucy eyeballed the woman, measuring to see whether or not she should trust her. Then she looked around the office. There weren't any doors. There was no one else _there_. She obviously had no other choice, but to trust this crazy lady.

"Okay."

"Are you okay? I know it's a lot to process."

Lucy stared at the wall in front of her, but she was unseeing. She leaned her head against the wall.

"So, you're telling me…. I'm something that's called a Nephilim." She hesitated, looking to Naomi for reassurance. Naomi nodded. "And I'm _wanted_ by angels."

"And demons." Naomi added, "and basically anyone that wants to see what you can do and use it against their enemies. I am not going to lie. I am also curious as well, but I do not wish to harm you."

"What does that _mean_ though? What I can do? I'm not… I'm not a freak, am I? Like, I'm not going to go psycho?" Lucy had seen way too many sci-fi movies where the most special people end up killing machines. They were a guilty pleasure.

"No," Naomi chuckled, "You are not a freak. I would classify you as… well… unique. You are the _only_ one alive that is half angel and half human. Because of your genetics, it is likely that you have special abilities—"

"Great. So, I _am_ a freak." Lucy muttered, closing her eyes briefly before reopening them, "Wait, what do you mean 'special abilities?'"

Naomi sighed, "No one is certain because, well, I hate to tell you this but relationships between humans and angels are _strictly_ forbidden. If it is found that a human and an angel have conceived a child, they are exterminated as well as that child. You are not even supposed to have been born."

Lucy paused, internally analyzing that information before responding, "So, my biological parents are most likely dead." Naomi merely nodded. Lucy let out a bitter laugh, "Well, this day just keeps getting better. My real parents are dead, I am a supernatural freak, and I have all these people after me—wait, so that dude in the park? Metatran? What did he want? I mean, why was he so Hell bent on killing me?"

"Meta_tron_," Naomi corrected, then added with a frown, "I am afraid so. He wants to shut down Heaven." Naomi quickly filled her in on the why before finally concluding, "He needs you because you are the first trial. He has to… rip out your heart."

"What a douche bag."

"I can not argue with that statement," Naomi smiled, half-heartedly, "but I am here to protect you. Well, sort of."

"Okay, Naomi, you're going to have to start making a little more sense and stop with these little half-truths you keep shooting at me. Spit it out, woman." Lucy leaned her head against the wall, staring up at the ceiling. She was drained—emotionally, physically—from this entire experience. She wished that she had never left work and had never found out about any of this.

"Okay, okay." Naomi rolled her eyes, but couldn't help the smile that made its way to her face. She was definitely taken by this young girl. It was a shame she was going to have to hide her away. "You humans…"

"Technically, I'm only half. Apparently." Lucy shot her a sarcastic grin. There. Now she was acting more like herself instead of the wimp that had taken her over for the last couple of hours. Lucy felt calmer after that comment.

"I have to run things here, attempting to keep the chaos as minimum as possible. So, I am afraid I will not be the one actually doing the protecting. I am going to be sending you—"

"What? I'm leaving?" Lucy panicked, eyes wide, "Why can't I stay here?"

"Because this is the first place Metatron will look for you. He knows I saved you and will be bent on finding you. Needless to say, you need to be _safe_ for both your sake and Heaven's. So, yes, I'm sending you to two of the most qualified people on Earth."

"Who?" Lucy asked, hesitantly. She was going to be entrusting these people with her life.

"Sam and Dean Winchester."

"You've _got_ to be shitting me."

AN: Anybody like it? Let me know!


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"I'm going to bed," Sam spoke up, the first time he had said anything since they left the hotel in Indiana hours ago. He quickly made his way down the hallway in the bunker, towards his room.

"Sam," Dean started, but stopped. There weren't any words for what they had witnessed tonight.

Dean stared helplessly as Sam continued to his room, as if he had never heard Dean speak at all. Sam didn't allow himself to show any emotion until he was safely hidden away behind his door. When the door clicked shut, that's when the waves of anger, sadness, and utter hopelessness began to wash over him. He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. He wanted to hit something… more specifically, he wanted Crowley's head on a plate.

Sarah Blake was dead. Her daughter, barely one years old, had lost her mother. All because of _Crowley_. That damn demon swore to kill every last person they had saved in their lives if they didn't stop trying to close the gates of Hell. Sam had been to Hell and back, took on Lucifer without a blink of an eye, but nothing had scared him quite like witnessing the deaths of people they had saved.

When the feelings and his thoughts became too much, Sam gave up on sleep. He made his way into the liquor cabinet in the library, reaching inside until he got what he was searching for. A huge ass bottle of Whiskey. It was the Winchester way, afterall. He went to sit in one of the several darkened rooms of the bunker. He sat with his back against the wall, taking his time with the bottle. With every sip he took, he saw her last gasps for air until suddenly, she was gone. Her dead eyes staring at nothing.

Dean found him the next morning, passed out and snoring on a table in the library. He was hunched over with the empty bottle of whiskey still in his hand. Dean sighed, climbing the steps before making his way to his passed out younger brother. He gently removed the bottle from Sam's tight grip before placing a hand on Sam's shoulder.

"Sam," He spoke softly, then a bit firmer when Sam didn't stir, "Come on, man, get up. Rise and shine and all that jazz."

Sam finally came back to the land of the living, although not so peacefully. He groaned, sitting up and squinting at Dean. He rubbed his eyes, feeling like he had gotten ran over by a truck.

"whattimeisit?"

"I'm gonna be honest. I don't know what the hell you just said." Dean laughed before shaking his head, "I don't speak hung-over Sasquatch. I think it's shower-time for Sammy. You smell like a distillery. Come on. Up."

Dean pulled him up, Sam mumbling all the while that he could do it and that he was perfectly "fine." He stumbled, causing Dean to roll his eyes. Even a hungover Sammy was an independent sonuvabitch. Some things never changed. He managed to get his freakishly tall brother down the hall and into his bed. Shower would have to wait until he was coherent enough to not drown, Dean decided. Sam immediately rolled onto his stomach, mumbling words Dean didn't hear and honestly, he wasn't sure he wanted to. Sam had a tendency to feel things more deeply and after the previous night, it wasn't any surprise that his brother had chosen to deal with it with copious amounts of alcohol. Dean ran a hand over his face, taking one last, worrying look at his broken sibling before leaving Sam to sleep off his hangover.

Sam entered the kitchen about eight o'clock that night, having showered but still feeling groggy and basically like shit. His damp hair even had a mind of its own, sticking up in different directions, but he couldn't care less. He saw Dean sitting at the table, newspaper in hand and eyebrows raised as he took in the sight of his younger brother. He had barely opened his mouth when Sam spoke.

"Don't start," Sam grumbled, reaching for the pot of coffee and pouring himself a cup. Dean clamped his mouth shut, fighting back the remark he was about to say. Sam looked as if he had gone twelve rounds with a semi-truck. And lost. Sam made his way to the table, sitting across from his brother and lifting up the coffee mug to his lips. He sighed with relief when it didn't upset his stomach and put it on the table.

"I wasn't going to say anything," Dean turned his attention back to the newspaper, but Sam knew his brother had other things—_Sam_ things—on his mind. "Glad you finally decided to join the living."

Sam rolled his eyes, eagerly chugging down the rest of his coffee. His brother was way too predictable. He wanted to completely avoid what was about to happen.

"I'm—"

"Fine? Yeah, I got that this afternoon when I found you passed out on the library table." Dean gave up on the front of pretending to read the newspaper and folded it before placing it on the table. He leaned forward, elbows on the table. "Look, man, I know it's bad right now, okay? But we've got to stick to the plan, Sam—"

"What _plan_, Dean?" Sam felt the lump in his throat return as the memories from yesterday rushed back. He scoffed at his brother, "Shutting down Hell? How are we supposed to do that?"

"Yeah, we get a demon—"

"You heard him! Crowley's not going to let one near us. All we can do is sit back and watch people we saved… people we _know_… die. Like Sarah." Sam felt himself start to lose it and attempted to rein it in, clenching his fist underneath the table to stop him from hitting something. He lowered his voice, sounding resigned, "I'm just saying… maybe this isn't one we can win."

He unclenched his fist, choosing to look down at his hands to avoid the look he knew Dean had on his face.

"You don't mean that."

"I don't?" Sam raised his eyebrow, sighing as he finally locked eyes with his brother. To Dean, Sam looked as if he had aged ten years overnight. "What possible other option do we have here?"

"We'll figure it out, alright?" Dean finally spoke up, then adding when Sam gave him a skeptical look, "We will."

"Yeah, okay." Sam wasn't convinced. Not at all.

"You want something to eat? There's leftover pizza in the fridge."

Sam looked confused, "When did we—"

"Lunch. Today. Which you missed because you were too busy doing an impression of Sleeping Beauty. Without the beauty part, of course." Dean gave him a grin, causing Sam to roll his eyes. Sam stood up, making his way to the fridge. Dean caught sight of his brother's unruly hair, once again, and made a face. "Seriously, man, five minutes with some clippers and I could—"

Sam bit out a laugh, which was what Dean had been trying to accomplish.

"Shut up," Sam said fondly, rummaging through the fridge.

One minute he was reaching inside the fridge for the pizza box and the next he was blinking harshly at a bright light.

"What the actual fu—"

His brother was nearby, so that was a good sign.

"I have no idea," Sam cut him off, continuing to squint at the light, "I can't even see anything, can you?"

"It'll get better."

That wasn't Dean's voice. It was distinctly female and… familiar. Sam quit squinting just as their eyes adjusted. Sam noticed Dean first, checking out their surroundings before locking eyes with him. Sam shrugged before looking around again. This time, he locked eyes on a brunette in the corner and a red haired lady sitting behind a desk.

"Sam, Dean," The red haired woman greeted with a small pleasant smile on her face, "Nice to see you again."

"Wish we could say the same, but we have no clue where the hell we are." Dean spoke up, glaring at her. He assumed the worst, body radiating with tension. "Or _who_ you are."

"Forget me already?" The woman frowned before chuckling and shaking her head, "Oh well, that's no matter. My name is Naomi. A few weeks ago, I helped you against—"

"Dude, she's the chick who nearly filleted Crowley!" Dean spoke excitedly, all heat and reservations gone. Sam shot his brother a glare. Sure, Naomi had been on their side that one particular time a couple weeks ago but they had no idea if she was one of the good guys or not.

"That I did," Naomi laughed briefly before her eyes darkened, "He's a menace, that demon. I wish someone would take him down a peg or two." Sam sensed there was unspoken history between the two and shot a curious look at Dean. "However, that's not why I brought you two here to discuss." Naomi nodded towards the girl standing beside her, "This is Lucy."

Sam locked eyes with the girl. She gave him a shy smile and that's when he realized that he knew her.

"Lucy?" Dean asked, "We don't know a—"

"I do," Sam spoke up quietly, "I know her."

Dean's head spun around so fast, it would've been almost comical. Sam noticed his brother's tense demeanor combined with his angry eyes and realized what Dean thought. He thought Lucy was the girl Sam had "shacked up with" during Dean's time in purgatory. They hadn't spoken about it, so it was only natural for his brother to assume that.

"Dean, no. I met Lucy years ago. Like, when I was fifteen."

Dean nodded and turned back around, but Sam could still tell that his brother was still angry over his time that he "didn't look." Sam realized they would have to talk about that eventually, but now was not the time.

"I can vouch for that." Lucy spoke up, pulling her arms across her chest as if to protect her from something, "Brandenburg, Indiana. Richman High. I think it was "

Dean seemed to relax at that. He remembered that high school very well. He made his way through the cheerleaders like a virus that year. He smirked to himself, man what a year that had been. He tried to remember what had happened to Sam that year. Then it hit him. Sam had gotten to go to his first dance.

"Ah, so you're the mysterious prom date." Dean nodded, smirking at Sam. Sam, despite being thirty years old, blushed because he knew exactly what his brother was thinking.

"This reunion is lovely, but we have more important matters to attend to," Naomi interrupted just as Lucy opened her mouth. She quickly shut it, folding her arms across her chest. Sam shot her a curious look, but Lucy was too busy looking at the ground.

"What's going on? Why is she here?"

"Sit down gentlemen, I'll explain everything." Naomi sighed, nodding to two chairs which suddenly appeared in front of the desk. The men hesitated, glancing at each other out of the corner of their eye. Should they trust her? Afterall, angels weren't exactly, well… _angels_. Noami rolled her eyes, "If you don't trust me, trust Lucy."

"She's harmless, I think." Lucy spoke up, "I don't really know, but I think it's safe enough for you two to sit and listen to what she has to say. Sam, I know it's been a long time….a _really_ long time, actually," Lucy laughed a little, "but you trust me, don't you?"

Sam looked her in the eyes, without hesitation and nodded, "Of course."

Lucy seemed to relax at that, "then sit. Please."

Sam looked back to his brother, nodding. The brothers sat down, although sit reluctantly. Sam had said he trusted her, but how did he know she wasn't playing them in some way? After all this time, Sam had become more cynical about… well, everything. Including people who just showed up after 15 years claiming that they needed their help and had an angel as a buddy to get them involved. They had to get to the bottom of this.

"So, start talking." Dean demanded.

So, Naomi did. For what seemed like forever, the angel talked about Lucy, Metatron, and how their friend (and she used that term loosely at this point) Castiel was involved in it all. So, Lucy had just met Naomi. They weren't buddies. That made Sam a little more at ease. Maybe she was the same. However, she was still something called a Nephilim_. _And, with that thought, he became even more critical of what Naomi was telling them.

"Metatron wants her dead?" Sam was the first to speak up, rubbing a hand across his forehead in attempt to dislodge the headache that was on the horizon.

"Yes," Naomi confirmed, frowning, "I need you two to look after her. Protect her. She is Heaven's greatest asset at the moment. Everyone – demons, angels—will be after her."

"What can we do? Cas is our friend, lady and I don't believe that he would just—"

Naomi let out another sigh that said the basically had the world on her shoulders and she didn't have time for this. Lucy wondered why on Earth the angel even bothered with the boys since they clearly didn't believe a word she just told them. She also wondered what it said about _her_ that she basically ate up every word the woman had told her as fast as she did.

"Boys, please. I do not have time to get you to trust me or to get you to believe that Castiel is involved. Metatron is on a witch-hunt for Lucy and _nobody_ up here can protect her. What she needs is a place no one will think of to look for her. They saw that I rescued her, which means Heaven will be the first place they look. It is shocking they have not been here already."

"She's right, Dean," Sam spoke up, turning to face his brother, "we've gotta do something."

"And tell Cas what, exactly, when he pops in looking for us? Oh, her, no she's just another fuc—"

"_Dean,_" Sam said exasperatedly, giving him a look. Dean sighed, mumbling cuss words.

"Fine…._fine_. She can come stay with us, but I'm still not sure exactly how we're the most qualified to—" Suddenly, they were back in the bunker. Dean's sentence trailing off at the realization that he was back in their kitchen. "_Son of a bitch_!"


End file.
